


"Who's the Best Boy?  Oh, Yes, You Are!"

by Vukovich



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animagus Draco Malfoy, Fluff, drarry if you squint, literally fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:07:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28900152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vukovich/pseuds/Vukovich
Summary: Harry had some pettings and scritches to give, and it turned out Pansy's furry friend wanted them; along with Harry's sandwich.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 11
Kudos: 162





	"Who's the Best Boy?  Oh, Yes, You Are!"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dracogotgame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracogotgame/gifts).



Harry settled in on the stool behind the counter at Wheeze’s and watched the front door thud shut before kicking off in an undignified twirl. They wouldn’t have put spinning stools at the counter if they didn’t want employees to spend idle time twirling. Or volunteer cashiers, as it were. Someone needed to watch the store, and they knew Harry could be bribed with one of Molly’s fried egg and tomato sandwiches.

Hands on the edge of the counter as the room still spun, he inhaled the scent of hot toast, butter and tomato with an eager shimmy to his shoulders. He’d have watched the store for them, either way, but the sandwich was quite a bonus. His fingers cradled the warm, paper-wrapped parcel, a thumb popping the Spell-o-tape free, and he folded it down to expose half the sandwich.

The bell over the door jangled discordantly as someone struggled to open it. He blinked rapidly against the improbable sight of a very pregnant Pansy Parkinson in stilettos holding the door open for a polar bear on a leash. No, not a leash; a delicate silver chain. And no; not a polar bear, an utterly enormous white dog.

“Potter!” Pansy called. “Fancy meeting you in the Weasley vacation home.”

“Hi, Pan-”

“Loo first, Potter.” She gestured to her belly. “Obviously.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s right-”

“Merlin’s sake, I know, Potter,” she spat. “I know every public loo on Diagon by now.”

She reached over the counter, slipping the end of the leash from her wrist and holding it out to him. More of a bracelet than a leash, he thought, examining it. Rhinestone pave over black leather. It flicked menacingly at him, and he shook his head. She scowled at him, waiting for him to take the leash.

“I’d say I won’t be long, but who knows at this point.” The warm leather settled in Harry’s grasp while she looked down to fix the dog with a glare. “He’s a _very_ good boy and will be on his absolute _best_ behavior. Especially if he wants mimosas with brunch.”

The dog huffed out a breath and turned his head away. Her hand patted the top of his head as she turned and clattered her way through the Dark Farts section toward the loo. She mumbled something about hexing Blaise for putting her in such a physical state, and Harry watched her go, a little concerned he was going to watch her careen into a display.

She made it through to the hall and swung the door open, and he let out a long breath. The dog echoed his sigh, and he leaned forward over the counter to examine the beast. And he truly was a _beast_.

Harry studied the end of the leash in his hand, wondering if such a fine chain could even keep a creature this size in line. Probably not. The dog’s head rose well above the countertop as he glanced around. With a subdued snuffling, his muzzle drifted in the direction of Harry’s sandwich.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he chided. “Come ‘round behind the counter, big guy. Somebody’s gonna think we’re selling pony-dogs.”

He stood to pull the dog around the edge of the counter, but second-guessed whether the leash would survive a solid tug. While he hesitated, the dog obediently stood and took the few steps around the counter to join him. It sat and looked up at him expectantly.

From Harry’s perch on the stool, the dog’s massive head was level with his own chest. He reached both hands out to scratch behind the dog’s ears, and his muzzle dropped, nudging his ears forward. Round, grey eyes looked up at him as he scritched the soft, white fur.

“Oh, you _are_ a good boy, aren’t you?” Harry muttered. 

The dog’s tail thumped against the floor in response, and Harry grinned. It had been forever since he’d gotten to pet a big dog, and never one as massive as this gentle giant. The dog’s tongue lolled out as he panted happily, a contrast to the somewhat intelligent eyes that watched Harry.

Harry smoothed the fur down over the top of the dog’s round head, and turned to grab his sandwich. Hesitating, he gave his fingers a tentative sniff, then an appreciative nod.

“Leave it to Pansy to have a dog that smells like apples,” he said to the dog, who lifted his muzzle proudly. His wet, black nostrils flared as Harry turned back to him, sandwich in one hand.

A jeweled tag glittered from a collar buried under white fur, and Harry cocked his head to look at it. The dog’s head mimicked his pose, head tilted to the side, lower ear flopping free. Cheeky pup.

Harry’s fingers sought out the collar, which turned out to be a simple black leather band. What he’d thought was a set of tags turned out to be a dangling, rhinestone-encrusted letter D in a scrawling cursive script. An oddly familiar capital D, with a big lower loop.

Harry tilted his head the other way, and the dog mimicked him again. Experimentally, he tilted back again, as did the dog. Eerie.

“You’re either very smart or very dumb, Mister...D...dog? Did those meanies, Pansy and Blaise, name you _DOG_?”

Harry’s fingers ran under the collar, digging it out of the fur. It didn’t feel like it had been on him for long. Probably only used for walks, he thought, as his fingers wandered up under the dog’s chin for a good scratch.

The dog stretched his muzzle forward onto Harry’s waiting fingers. Harry grinned as he took a bite of the sandwich. A slice of tomato dangled from his lips, suspended mid-air before plopping wetly on his trousers.

Before he could reach down to pick the tomato up, a massive, wet tongue darted out to scoop it into the dog’s approaching jaws. Harry let out a startled yip at the sudden lapful of muzzle. With a wet smacking of lips, the dog swallowed the slice and looked up to Harry for more.

“Pansy will _kill_ me if I feed you,” Harry whispered.

The dog settled his huge head on Harry’s leg with a soft whine. Sad, storm-grey eyes rolled up to look at him under bushy white brows.

His tail swished across the floor like an eager windshield wiper as he whined a second time.

“Okay, fine,” Harry said, setting the sandwich down and opening the paper wrapper. “You can have some more tomato. They’re _really_ good. But don’t tell Pansy.”

The dog lifted his head and… nodded?

Harry dangled a slice a foot above the pup’s head, expecting him to hop up and snatch it. Instead, grey eyes met his and _rolled_.

“Fine. You don’t beg, then.” Harry held it out on an open palm and let the dog snaffle it up.

That huge tongue licked all the tomato juice from his hand, then worked gratuitously between his fingers. Less slobber than he’d expected, he thought.

Grey eyes met his again, and flicked toward the sandwich.

“No, I’m eating the rest of it, but I’ll wait till you and-”

The door bell jangled again, and a young man in a delivery service uniform walked in with a box and a clipboard. Harry rose and walked around the counter, with a glance back at the dog.

“Stay.”

The dog harrumphed and lay down on the floor, watching him cooly.

Harry scribbled a signature on the clipboard and accepted the box before holding the door for the man. When he turned, two massive white paws rested on the counter, and between them was a huge fluffy noggin and a muzzle full of sandwich.

“Hey!” Harry shouted, striding back to the counter and dropping the box on top. “Hey! Down! I thought you had _manners_!”

The dog picked up his entire sandwich and retreated to the corner behind the counter, tail wagging happily. Harry rounded the counter and stared down at the thieving beast. It was the principle of the thing.

“Give it,” he commanded, holding a hand out. He wasn’t sure why he expected a dog to relinquish a treat to a stranger, but this dog seemed to understand him entirely too well.

The dog chuffed an insolent breath, picked off the top piece of bread, and flung it at Harry’s shoes. It landed soggy-side-down on the floor between his feet. Carefully, long canines picked the tomatoes off the sandwich, and the dog tossed them back in his snapping jaws.

Harry dropped to his knees in front of the hairy monstrosity. “Pansy said you had manners, but you don’t, do you?”

The dog gave him a long, appraising look as it demonstrably licked its chops.

“Fine. You can have my sandwich, but I’m not petting you anymore.”

The dog huffed and slumped, head hanging from its shoulders. With a grunt, its nose nudged the remaining sandwich toward Harry.

“Oh. Well, thank you,” he said, surprised. He slid the sandwich away, no intention of eating it after it had been licked by a dog. “I guess I owe you a thorough petting, then.”

Its tail thudded against the floor, and Harry felt the vibration in his knees. Harry settled onto the floor, cross-legged, and patted his thighs. The dog’s nails slid over the wood floor as he scrambled to his feet and trotted up to Harry.

Rather than sit in front of him, as Harry expected a dog to do, he thumped down onto his side and rolled onto his back in front of Harry’s knees, offering him his belly. Harry grinned and slid the sandwich even further way, out of wiggly dog range.

“Ah, you’re a belly rubs kinda pup, huh?” Harry smoothed the thick fur down the dog’s chest, wondering if he could even feel it. “Suppose you earned it. Even if you did steal my tomatoes.”

The dog growled eagerly and wiggled its rear against the floor as Harry ruffled the fur on its belly. Its big, fluffy butt swished across the wood planks, and its massive head shook back and forth, elated. Its long, pink tongue lolled out of its mouth, leaving wet prints on the floor.

“Oh, Godric, you are just the best dog!” Harry ruffled the dog’s belly nonsensically. “Yes, you are! Just the best dog!”

Harry flopped down alongside the dog, amazed he was only a few inches longer on the floor than someone’s pet. His fingers carded up through the thick fur to the dog’s chin, scratching against his lower jaw. He patted the dog’s big chest, and Harry rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling. Pansy should have been back by now.

“Think I should go check on her, Mister Dog?”

The dog rolled over into a crouch next to him and looked toward the hall, and his ears perked up. He huffed a breath and turned to Harry, grey eyes flicking down him.

“Is she in danger, bestest of pups?”

Harry shut his eyes and laced his fingers behind his head, relaxed. Maybe he’d get a dog soon. It was nice.

Claws pressed into Harry’s chest, and his breath whooshed out under the sudden weight of a man-sized dog settling itself on top of him. His eyes sprang open, and he lifted his head to look down. Grey eyes watched him as the dog’s head sat on his chest, its back legs awkwardly scrabbling to tuck up onto Harry’s thighs.

That long tongue lapped out across Harry’s chin, and he snorted a laugh. He wiped the slobber from his face with the back of his hand, but the dog proceeded to lick his hand, too.

“Bah, that’s enough puppy kisses,” Harry said with a chuckle. “Not that I’m not flattered.”

Harry’s arms wrapped around the dog’s shoulders, hugging the unreal fluffiness of him. The warm weight pressed against him, and he sighed. Definitely needed to look into getting a dog.

The dog’s tail wagged expectantly, and Harry scritched his fingers up the dog’s back, ruffling the ridiculous floof.

“Oh, you are just the _best_ boy, aren’t you? Oh, yes you are! You sure are! You’re the best-”

“Potter!” Pansy stood over him, watching in horror.

Harry’s clawed fingers froze behind the dog’s ears, unsure.

Her glare traveled down to the dog, who’d frozen in terror, as well. He let out a low whine, and she shook her head softly. “Let’s go. You know better.”

The dog sat up, and Harry muttered a soft _oof_ as it stepped on his belly. With a huff, it lumbered up to Pansy. Harry got to his knees, picking up the leash as he rose.

She snatched the leash from Harry’s hand, and the dog padded behind her with a mournful glance back to Harry. She held the door open and scowled down at the dog.

“No mimosas. I swear, you have no shame at all,” she scolded. “Your father will hear about this.”


End file.
